


Kick/Push

by Chromat1cs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Humor, I'm suddenly very weak for this pair and I love them, Implied Sexual Content, Jock/Nerd, M/M, Skateboarding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21518431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromat1cs/pseuds/Chromat1cs
Summary: Percy is new to this whole skatepark thing (really, he just likes to watch).
Relationships: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 19
Kudos: 161





	Kick/Push

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadow_prince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_prince/gifts), [pixelated](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixelated/gifts).



> Hello, I blame nobody but Lucca and RJ. This is for you beautiful idiots.

The first thing he hears making that wide loop around the chainlink entrance is a mocking whoop of a cheer, and of _course_ it's coming from Lee Jordan. 

"Well sock me fuckin' flat, look who's decided to join us?"

"Get gutted, Jordan," Percy calls over his shoulder, resisting the urge to straighten the knot of his tie even though it really does need adjusting—the timing would be all too twee, not exactly ideal for the bonding he's been trying to do lately with all of Oliver's friends. It took him plenty long enough to realize their insults are all adoration instead of combativeness, even though telling Luna Lovegood to _Fuck off, flower-child_ still feels extremely out of place in his mouth. 

Thankfully, Lee let's out one of those coyote laughs of his—head back, teeth out, short braids fluttering in the afternoon as he shakes his head as though to say _Oh, you tender goddamn tightass_ —before he shoves off the lip of the half-pipe on which he's perched like a cobbled-together king of the plywood and scarred metal around them with an exhilarating snarl of his skateboard wheels. 

Percy hadn’t intended to fall head over heels for the polar opposite of everything he’s ever embodied, it just sort of... _happened._ Used to drive him fairly crazy, really, what with the identity crisis of I Have A Model UN Meeting At 8 o’ Clock And Directly After Then I’m Going To Accompany My Gorgeous Disaster Of a Boyfriend (Boyfriend, Really, That’s A Real Word For You Now, Well Done) While He Illegally Tags Buildings in the Dead of Night. But now that he’s adapted to it, there’s something very alluring about leaving campus most nights without knowing exactly where he’ll end up alongside Oliver.

People look at him differently now. Ginny was the first one, finding out via the terribly-veiled infatuation ( _infatuation,_ he always has to remind himself, because how can he be saying “I love you” to someone he’s only known for a few months?) rolling off of Percy that was absolutely unhidable from the wit of an only and youngest daughter in the cabal of her vibrant brothers. 

_Oliver, Oliver Wood?_ She had asked him, cornered in hallway that weekend he dropped home to say hello, with those jade-blade eyes of hers a-glitter. Percy had waffled. He could hardly believe it at that point either, Oliver-Oliver Wood—because of course you have to say his name twice for clarity’s sake, the man is a fucking bottled storm just waiting to release its unhinged lightning—so he had shrugged and tried to ignore the way Ginny’s expression flashed with a hint of smugness.

_I mean...yeah. Oliver, Oliver Wood._

“Hey, brain-o.”

Percy staggers, just a little, just like every time they kiss because it still knocks the wind out of him—Oliver, Oliver Wood—when Oliver covers him with a kiss there right in the middle of the skate park. He kisses back with what he hopes is fervor, might be nerves, might be still a small measure of the sort of animalistic and unhinged hunger with which he kisses Oliver when it’s just the two of them in the back of Oliver’s beat-up Chevy Malibu or in Percy’s room when they have the dorm to themselves. He blinks more than a little owlishly alongside a sweet pull in his heart when Oliver releases him with that damnable smirk of his, barely managing a small smile of his own for all the dizzying brightness bounding up from inside him; “Hey, road-rash.”

It’s a new routine they’ve hammered out here, Percy tromping over to the skate park instead of the library twice a week as the trade-off for getting Oliver into the library for a measly single Thursday evening. The fact Oliver still passes, no, _excels_ in every class despite his propensity to wait until the eleventh hour to finish anything in lieu of skating is quietly baffling to Percy.

 _In case you haven’t noticed,_ that low murmur of his at Percy’s ear—fucking phantom that it is now of all Oliver’s most alluring pieces, deep and rubied comfort for Percy when they spend weeknights apart—at their table in the middle of the stacks not two months ago, _sports medicine isn’t exactly advanced statistics._

 _Don’t sell yourself short,_ Percy barely remembers replying with his voice shorn in half. What he does remember, more than clearly, is that Oliver had laughed that throaty chuckle of his and proceeded to be very distracting for the next hour.

Look, if one is going to cart Oliver Wood to the library the least one can do is let the man entertain himself. It isn’t selfish at _all,_ or at least that’s that Percy tells himself to sleep a bit more soundly.

Presently, he finds that he’s adapting rather quickly to the routine of parking himself comfortably on the lip of the massive, pocked-concrete bowl next to Cho. Oliver kicks and pushes his way through every turn and trick in beautiful, whirling loops, his body curving into all sorts of gorgeous shapes, such that it makes Percy wish vaguely for the talent to catch it all on paper as Cho is currently doing with her expeditious sketching.

“Can I...could I see?” Percy tries to be as deferential as possible, leant back onto his palms with his legs crossed as though watching Oliver skate doesn't make his guts tie ecstatic knots in his belly. Cho glances up at him with a smile. 

"Most of the guys usually just look over my shoulder anyways. Here," she says, another benefaction of this still-new group of friends like an offering of bread at her own table, as she turns the sketchbook to face Percy. Lee and Cedric are rendered there, wiry and dynamic and looking as though they're about to leap off the page, with the half-done shape of Oliver in a kickflip down in the corner. He must stare for a little too long, his eyes ever the betrayers of his inner secrets, for Cho sniffs an amused chuckle. "I can do a more detailed one of Oliver sometime, if you'd like?"

Percy gawps, floundering in his gratitude; "Oh, you—really, that's—"

_"Yo!"_

The growl of approaching wheels underscoring Oliver’s devil-may-care crowing pulls Percy’s attention like a lodestone. He looks up just in time to see Oliver careening up the slope leading to the edge of the bowl, a victorious grin on his face for nothing but the indomitable thrill of skating, aimed right at the space between Percy and Cho. Oliver crouches and leans into his momentum, speed gathering beneathing him as though he’s spinning up a cloud at his feet, and in the next blink he’s kicked up and onto one hand, balancing there in perfect defiance of gravity.

“Hey,” he murmurs, inches away from Percy’s face.

All Percy can think to do is lean forward and plant a kiss on him before he flips over, their lips slotting sweetly like the dovetail that makes up the beautiful-messy mechanism of Them as a whole—honestly, _opposites attract_ has never been so brazen—in a throwing of caution to Percy’s wind so spontaneous that it feels as though time freezes in midair alongside Oliver’s body.

He doesn't have very much time at all before reality reactivates and begins pulling Oliver back down, his board sailing in a perfect arc to reconnect with the concrete in a satisfying _klachak!_ , but Percy swears he sees ardor spear out from the depths of Oliver's eyes like the fiercest of fletching. 

"Yeah," Cho hums to herself with a very pleased angle in her voice, yanking Percy back into his body down from the heights of floaty and completely uncharacteristic reverie; "I'll get you a good one of Olly."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to stop by [on tumblr](https://chromat1cs.tumblr.com/) for chatter and drabbles or just to say hi :>


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